Harp Strings
by onewing
Summary: Lindir has a secret, Erestor is in love, and Glorfindel is too interested in the whole thing. Slash, ErestorLindir
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: May Tolkien live forever in the heart of his work, and may I never own it.

Warnings: Slash, yaoi, whathave you. The main pairing is Erestor/Lindir. Also, this will probably be an odd ride, so hold tight. ;)

Description: Lindir has a secret, Erestor is in love, and Glorfindel is too interested in the whole thing.

Notes: This is a short kind of intro into the characters, without revealing the full plot yet. More to follow, depending upon how this is recieved.

Harp Strings

It was a nice day, almost a pleasant day, certainly one that shouldn't be spent indoors doing paper work when one could be enjoying the outdoors over a glass of wine. Or so Glorfindel had decided when he had dragged Erestor from his office and down into the courtyard, where he had managed, without too much hassle to get the often overworked Councilor to sit with him and enjoy the day for once. There were few others in the main courtyard, merely themselves, the Lady Celebrian playing with her young daughter off to the side, and a few musicians that had sought to practice in the open air, instead of in the Hall of Fire. It was to them that Erestor's attention constantly wondered when he was listening to Glorfindel talk, his gaze seemingly drawn to a particular pale beauty among them.

Glorfindel smiled, this was far too amusing. Erestor acted as if his blood were made of ice most of the time, except when that certain silver haired charmer was about.

"Erestor, if you intend to keep your interest in him a secret, I would suggest not staring at him so much," Glorfindel commented lightly, glancing up at his long time friend briefly from across the table.

Erestor turned his gaze slightly to look at the golden haired Elf, "I am not staring at him. I am merely listening to his music. And I am not interested in him, merely an appreciator of his art."

"So you say, yet your eyes speak else wise, dear friend," Glorfindel stated.

"Glorfindel, you more then anyone else should know that even if I was interested in him, he is clearly not 'up for the taking', as the young ones tend to say these days," Erestor said, not denying his attraction any more, but not confirming it either.

He knew Glorfindel could find the truth if he wanted, he had known him long enough to know the Elf could see into things that even he himself could not. It was an interesting trait in his dear friend, one he both admired, and hated at times.

"Really? Last I heard, Lindir was not involved with someone. And I didn't know you listened to Elladan and Elrohir so much," Glorfindel smiled in a vaguely teasing manner, to keep the conversation light.

"It is hard not to," Erestor retorted, before a soft sigh escaped him, "He hasn't been with anyone since…."

"That has been nearly fifty years now, and they were loose lovers to begin with. Lindir doesn't look like he's grieving now, and it might do him some good if someone loved him and took care of him," Glorfindel advised.

He was right. It had been quite a while since Lindir's lover had died in that attack on the borders of Imladris. The young minstrel had grieved for a few weeks, and then seemingly moved on, smiling and laughing as he had always done. To Erestor, that had always seemed strange, yet he had never been close enough to Lindir to question him on that.

At best, they could be called vague friends. Lindir knew him to be the one that almost always came to listen to him play, even when the hall was long vacated, and the minstrel was merely practicing. Yet, Erestor usually came when he heard the faintest stirrings of song, and he could always tell when it was Lindir playing.

The younger Elf had a way of caressing the strings of his harp, like if it were a lover, making the instrument sing such songs that the very soul echoed with it. Always, he had left Erestor enchanted, even with just a few short notes.

But if Erestor were ever true to himself, he would admit that it was not just Lindir's songs that enchanted him, and in some ways, seduced him. It was the very way the minstrel moved, with such grace that he seemed even beyond Elven standards. It was how he spoke, warmly and with such life that it was hard not to focus on every word. It was how he merely smiled, not with his lips, though they looked sweet and tempting on their own, but with his eyes, eyes that glimmered like sunlit fields in spring when he was happy.

Lindir was, in all essence, perfect, yet, Erestor knew he only saw the younger as that, because he had never been close enough to see the imperfections. It troubled him, yet it only drew him ever closer…

"Erestor, I think he's beginning to notice…" Glorfindel noted mildly, obviously amused that his friend had been lost in thought, all the while staring at the object of their conversation.

The silver haired beauty had indeed noticed, and was now smiling in their direction. Erestor suppressed the near adolescent urge to blush, and instead nodded in greeting, a slight smile on his own lips in return. Lindir rose at that, and approached.

"I take it that my lords are enjoying the day?" he asked pleasantly, looking from Glorfindel to Erestor. His gaze only lingered a little longer on Erestor then it had on Glorfindel, and flickered with something that was too fleeting for the Councilor to catch.

"That we are, Lindir, care to join us?" Glorfindel said, gesturing to the empty seat by Erestor. He shot his friend a near wicked glance, while Erestor tried hard not to flush in near mortification.

"I would love to, but I'm afraid I have duties I must attend to soon," the tone was apologetic, though the smile never wavered.

"Ah, I believe I heard you were singing tonight," Glorfindel mentioned in understanding.

"I am, my lord, so you can see why I cannot. I hope you will both be attending," his gaze turned curious.

"Of course we will, won't we, Erestor?" the golden warrior looked towards the now once again composed councilor.

"Yes, we shall both be attending. Your songs are not to be missed," Erestor answered truthfully, as was his way, though he kept any other meaning far from it.

The smile that erupted at his words nearly made him wonder if Lindir had caught something else from them anyways, "You flatter me, dear Councilor. I shall do well to live up to your expectations," he bowed, "Now, if you will excuse me. I shall hopefully see you both tonight."

He was gone before they could respond. Glorfindel sat back, gazing thoughtfully at where the younger Elf had just been standing, "He is certainly devoted…"

"That he is," Erestor agreed, though he couldn't help the smile that formed.

"All the more reason why he needs a lover to make sure he doesn't lose himself completely to his art," a sly glance in his direction.

Erestor frowned, "Enough. Even if I am, or if I was, attracted to him, I would not just go about and declare that to him. He obviously has no interest in me, and only sees me as one who appreciates his art. That is well enough."

Glorfindel knew when to stop prodding before Erestor got really upset, "Very well. I merely suggest you keep an open mind."

Erestor didn't bother to respond.

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The Hall of Fire was crowded, too crowded for Erestor's tastes. The huge hall was packed with Elves and visitors, all seeking a night of entertainment. If it had been any other night, and any other person, Erestor would have left, and gone back to his own rooms, where he could still hear the music faintly without having to fight with the crowd, or deal with pleasantries.

Yet, he had told Lindir that he would be there, and he always kept his word. Even if the minstrel didn't note his presence tonight, he would still be there, just to watch him as he sang.

Watching Lindir perform had become a near hobby to Erestor, one that fascinated him and captured his attention like nothing else could. The minstrel seemed to become 'alive' the very moment his lips opened to release the music that made up his intricate soul. It was almost as if a light consumed him, yet the light was apart of him. In all of Erestor's years, he had never seen anything quite like it, though he had heard talents that surpassed the young minstrel. But Lindir alone had a true, unblemished 'gift'. Or else Erestor was more love struck then he thought himself to be.

Just then, the object of his affections stepped lightly on to the makeshift stage at the head of the hall, and bowed low to the audience. He then knelt, picked up the harp that had been placed there for him, before rising, his bright eyes scanning the crowd.

"Welcome, to all those that have come tonight. Some of you know me, some of you do not. I am Head Minstrel Lindir, but please, no title. The last thing I need is another person yelling 'Head Minstrel!' as if it were my name," his smile held no malice, merely innocent teasing.

A few bits of laughter from the crowd, then he went on, "Ah, you did not come here to listen to my sorry sense of humor, but for my better talents, I suppose. Hopefully I shall not disappoint. Though, if I should, there are better musicians here that can easily entertain you. Let us , however, see what I can do first," those slender hands caressed the strings, bringing forth a sweet, clear sound.

It echoed in Erestor's soul, and he was immediately enraptured, though he did his best to look only mildly interested. No need to give the game away, after all.

The Hall went silent as more notes followed, flowing into a river of song. In the midst of it, Lindir's voice could be heard, winding in and out of the music, never being fully apart, yet never being swallowed either. The song spoke of joy, and pain, a normal for Lindir's songs, the two elements being vividly detailed by the bright and near wild notes symbolizing joy, and the deeper, near soul wrenching notes showing pain.

Erestor watched his every movement, while his mind struggled to imprint the very sound and words that poured from Lindir into it, only for both to slip away, and bury themselves in his soul. Lindir was reacting to his own music, his face changing ever so slightly between the contrasts, one moment seemingly full of light, the next, dim as if he would fade….

"The young one certainly has a skill beyond his years," Glorfindel's voice was suddenly at his ear.

Erestor nearly jumped from his seat, having not heard nor noticed his friend's approach. In fact, he had been so absorbed, he hadn't even noticed that the song was over, and Lindir was leaving the stage after having introduced the next act.

"Day dreaming?" Glorfindel asked as he sat down beside him, smirking ever so slightly.

Erestor couldn't help but blush a little, though he scowled, "No, I was merely focused on the music. After all, you yourself said he has talent."

"So I did, and so he does. Speaking of which, your little obsession is coming this way," Glorfindel remarked.

Erestor didn't have time to rebuke him, for Lindir had indeed made his way through the crowd to stand before them. His ever-friendly smile was back in place, as if nothing had occurred, "I am glad to see that you two have made it, my lords."

"I am glad that we did. Your performance was splendid as always, Lindir," Glorfindel said, making up for Erestor's sudden silence.

"Thank you, Lord Glorfindel. What of you, Lord Councilor, did it please you as well?" there were no hidden clues as to Lindir's real mood, merely open curiosity of a musician.

"Yes, it did. You are certainly a master of your art, as you have always been," Erestor said.

A mysterious smile tugged at Lindir's lips, "Not always, my lord. No one is born with mastery, it must be earned."

Erestor wasn't sure on how to respond, "Of course. Though you make it as if you have always had such talent."

"Thank you, I am glad to know I make it seem so easy," Lindir looked up, as someone called his name, then he looked back down, an apologetic look on his features, "Excuse me, my lords, there are matters I need to attend to. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night…" He was then gone, off on silent, quick feet, until the crowd swallowed him.


	2. Chapter 2

I am so happy there are some out there that like this. Hugs to you all, really! I would respond individually, but I'm a little pressed for time, so perhaps in the next chapter I will.

Warnings: This fic starts to earn its rating.

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"Lindir, where are we going?" Erestor couldn't help but ask as the silver haired Elf led them further into the woods.

It had been two days since that performance in the Hall of Fire. Earlier that day, Lindir had asked for his company after mid day meal, and Erestor had granted it. When Lindir had come for him in his office, he had gone out with him, to first walk out in the gardens. They had chatted about mind numbing things, such as their separate work, the weather, Imladris in general, and few spots of gossip as well. But as Lindir had led them from the garden to the woods, the conversation had died, till Erestor broke the silence that had taken its place.

"Just wait, Councilor," Lindir answered, his voice revealing nothing as he strolled on, Erestor helplessly following, curious as to this new side in his friend.

They stopped in a dark clearing. Lindir sighed; tilting his head to look up into the trees while Erestor watched him. A few moments passed like this, until…

"Lindir?" Erestor tried again, but stopped, suddenly feeling something had changed in the being before him.

The lithe minstrel turned, looking back at him with bright clear eyes that glinted with both innocence and secrets. He gazed back, looking into those shining eyes, trying to read behind the thin veil of green color into the very soul of the one he desired, trying to understand this change. Yet, it was denied to him for the moment.

Pale lips rose in a faint, beckoning smile, as a hand reached out to him, a hand soft, and seemingly delicate in its slender nature. He reached for that hand, longing to feel that flesh, to touch the object of his dreams. Deep within, he could feel what was happening, what would happen, yet outwardly didn't acknowledge the hope yet.

Fingertips touched, then fingers, then palm. He grasped that hand, felt that wonderful warmth he had known the other to possess, and prayed it wasn't a dream. He had dreamed too much of this, too much of him. If he had to suffer awakening again, alone in his cold bed, he did not wish to think on how he would react.

Gently, Lindir pulled him towards him, and he allowed himself to be pulled, till their faces were nearly touching. Tenderly, those lips that he imagined for so long came close, and touched his, tasting just as sweet as he believed they would, as he would. He responded slowly, afraid he might scare away the one he had desired for so long.

Yet, that fear was swiftly driven out, along with the thought that this could be a dream, by a small nip on his lower lip, which elicited a little pain. He opened his mouth with a slight gasp, and that delicate tongue pressed in, devouring his mouth with a ferocity he didn't know the other possessed, though he liked it nonetheless.

His hands trailed down that slender body as he drew away from their slight fencing, to marking a heated path along Lindir's neck with his lips. The minstrel shuddered under his combined touch, his hands in turn unfastening Erestor's tunic, and slipping inside to stroke his chest, driving the passion further between them. Erestor made his way back up, capturing those tempting lips once more. Wrapping his arms around his waist, Erestor pressed them closer together, while Lindir wrapped his arms around his neck, deepening their kiss.

Suddenly, Lindir stiffened in his arms, and pulled away, a soft muffled cry coming from his throat as he looked away, his arms falling from around Erestor's neck, to hang loosely at his side.

"Lindir?" Erestor asked in concern, keeping him close.

Dulling green eyes looked to him, "Forgive me, Erestor…"

Erestor awoke, back in his own bed, cold and alone. Rising to his elbows, he looked around wondering how this could be. It had seemed so real… Everything he had felt… Near trembling fingers touched his lips, which felt bruised from nips and kisses. Surely it had been real…

The sound of running feet came to his ears. Knowing he should go see what the matter was, he rose from his bed, and grabbed his robe from a chair nearby. Throwing it on, he opened his door, and looked out as a young Elf started by.

Stepping out, he caught the Elf's attention, "What is wrong?"

"Master Lindir has collapsed in the Hall of Fire," the words sent a sudden chill through him, "I am going to get Lord Elrond."

"Then go," Erestor waved him off, and he hurried on.

In turn, Erestor headed for the Hall of Fire. Pure instinct drove him to go see, especially after that dream… The last bit, the memory of Lindir's sad face, and the way those word's echoed in his mind nearly drove him to run.

Surely Lindir had merely driven himself to exhaustion, as Lindir had a tendency to be too focused on his craft at times. Surely it was nothing. Erestor tried to reassure himself with those words, yet as he stopped at the massive doors, open in wait of Elrond, those thoughts were driven from him.

Lindir lay on his back, looking as if he had just collapsed there. Two other minstrels lingered nervously by his sides, unsure of what to do. Erestor drew closer, noting Lindir was unnaturally pale, like smoked glass, and his breathing was shallow.

"What happened?" Erestor nearly demanded, trying to maintain his calm as he knelt for a closer look.

The minstrels looked to him, "Master Erestor…" They looked to each other, before the one on the left spoke, "Lindir was practicing when he suddenly cried out and collapsed. It happened so fast… There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him though…"

"Leave that for Lord Elrond to decide," he couldn't help but say.

His eyes racked over Lindir, trying to see for himself if he could spot anything wrong. Green eyes were open, which was a good thing, even if they were glazed over with unawareness. There was no bleeding, or twitching… His eyes rove down to Lindir's hands, where one gripped tightly to the gold frame, and the other rested on the strings. Here he could see the faintest trickle of blood on the normally pure white strings.

Daring himself, he touched the hand that lay on top of the harp, noting it wasn't warm, but cold, almost like ice. Fighting off the dread at that observation, he examined the minor cut along a finger.

"Do you know how this happened?" he asked.

The one on the right, by his side, responded, "I think one of his strings broke. It happened a little before he collapsed…"

Erestor said nothing to that, merely set the hand down in its place. Hurried footsteps came to his ears, and he turned to see Elrond approaching with the Elf he had talked to before.

Elrond's look clearly said he was in his healer's frame of mind, and Erestor moved to back out of his way. Elrond, however, motioned him to stay, before kneeling on Lindir's left side.

A touch here, and glance there, and then Elrond looked to him, "Erestor, pick him up and get him to the healing house. I will go on ahead and get things ready."

Before he had time to protest, Elrond was gone, leaving him to stare after him. He then looked down to Lindir, and pushed his warring emotions aside for the moment. Lindir needed his help, not his indecisiveness.

Swiftly the scooping the surprisingly light body into his arms, he took a brief moment to adjust, making sure Lindir was settled comfortably enough, before moving off towards the healer wards.

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"So, how is the little one doing?"

Erestor looked tiredly up at the speaker, and conjured a vague sort of half smile for his friend, "Elrond says he should wake soon."

Glorfindel settled into a chair beside him, eyes roving over the youth before him before glancing at Erestor, "Did he say what happened?"

"Merely that it was exhaustion," Erestor shrugged, "He wouldn't say more then that."

"Indeed," that ended the discussion for a time as they sat there, Erestor watching Lindir, Glorfindel watching Erestor.

"You really should tell him," Glorfindel finally said, his usually teasing tone gone this time.

"Why? Would that help this situation?" Erestor asked, too tired to argue. Worrying over Lindir had been enough to exhaust him.

"It might. If he had someone to care for him, I doubt he would exhaust himself so much," the golden warrior said, shrugging a little.

"How do you know that?" Erestor tore his eyes from Lindir to look at Glorfindel.

"Because it worked for you," a bare, almost self-satisfied smirk wove on Glorfindel's lips.

A faint hint of a blush came to Erestor's cheeks, "So it did. Though you wouldn't leave me alone till I agreed."

It had been a long time since they had discussed that casual fling that they had once had. At the time, Erestor was even more overworked then he was now, and was constantly exhausting himself. Glorfindel had newly come to Imladris then, and seeing that his new friend and co-councilor would likely kill himself from over stress, had gone about seducing him. After nearly a year, Erestor had finally fallen to his charms, resulting in a brief affair that had died off as quickly as it had begun, though it left Erestor far less stressed, and a deep friendship between the two.

"So, if it could work on a overly restrictive Elf such as yourself, it should do more then just work on an open minded youth such as Lindir," Glorfindel reasoned.

Erestor put up a mock scowl, "Perhaps. But then why don't you go about doing it, if you think it would help him?"

"Because, as much as I love the little one, I don't hold that kind of affection for him. I at least had something to work off of with you," Glorfindel winked, then sobered, "Besides, that would require hurting you, and I could never do that. You are attracted to him, you may even love him, I don't know, and neither will you till you make the first move."

Erestor looked down at his hands, "I don't know if I can do it."

Glorfindel pressed a hand to his shoulder, "Just work with what the Valar gave you. Lindir can't expect more then that, and you might find he might be just as open to a relationship as you are."

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Glorfindel had left some time ago, excusing himself to attend to his duties, leaving Erestor to ponder over his words.

He knew he was right. He couldn't let things continue like this. His feelings were going to keep boiling under the surface of his skin till he released them, one way or the other. But how to go about confessing them still eluded him. He had never confessed love or lust to another, except in the throes of passion. Always it had been him who had been pursued, and it had always been his choice whether to give in, or evade.

But here, the choice lay in the hands of another, and he was the one pursuing. It gave him an uneasy feeling, one of being out of his element, and he didn't like it.

Yet, perhaps Glorfindel was right. Perhaps Lindir needed someone to love him, and to love, to take some of his focus away from his work. Perhaps he just needed another reason in his life, so he wouldn't exhaust himself so much… If Erestor could help in that, he could bring himself to confess.

A soft moan came to his ears, snapping him from his thoughts. Glancing to Lindir's face, he watched as green eyes blinked, and suddenly became aware. A faint sigh erupted from pale lips, and Lindir began to sit up, looking around.

The first sight he had caught was the ceiling of healing house, the second the far wall at the foot of his bed, and then… Surprised eyes locked to Erestor's.

"Councilor, what are you doing here?" Lindir asked softly, as if unsure how to handle this.

"I brought you here, and Elrond decided that someone should stay and watch over you, so I volunteered," it was as much of the truth as Erestor wanted to confess at the moment.

Lindir rested his back against the headboard, "That was very generous of you, Lord Councilor…"

"Please, Lindir, call me Erestor," Erestor slipped in, before Lindir could continue.

A faint smile came to Lindir's lips, and a slight rosy tint came to his cheeks, "Of course, Erestor. I am thankful that you were willing to stay. Though I know you have duties…"

"You do not need to thank me, I was worried for you," it was Erestor's turn to blush a little, "As were we all," he added quickly.

Daringly, he reached out, touching Lindir's arm softly, "You shouldn't exhaust yourself so much."

Lindir looked away, down to his hands, which rested in his lap, "I am the Head Minstrel, music is my life. There is little else in my life that I can devote myself to…"

Steeling himself, Erestor took a deep breath. This had been the moment he had been waiting for, "Then perhaps I can give you another focus in your life."

Lindir looked at him, blinked, then smiled, "Thank you, councilor, but as I told you before, I shouldn't split my duties like that. Being Head Minstrel is enough, without being your aid as well."

Erestor suppressed a sigh. He should have known Lindir would take it wrong, considering he had offered that to position to the other sometime before. Though, that had been about twenty years back too…

"No, Lindir," he tried to keep his tone light, "I am not offering you a job this time."

"Then what do you offer?" Lindir asked, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.

Erestor put it as simply as he could, because he couldn't express it else wise, "Myself."


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: Sorry this has taken so long to be updated. I have no true excuse, though I appreciate all the wonderful comments sent. Thank you all so much. :) This is a really short update, mostly because I want the next part to be seperated from it. I promise the next chapter will be longer, and will hopefully be ready soon. Till then, again, sorry for the delay, and enjoy. :)

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Lindir seemed to still at that. The vague smile that always haunted his lips faded into a straight line, and the beautiful light in his eyes seemed to dim. Erestor dared not breath as he waited for some sign from the silent minstrel.

Green eyes closed, "By that, what do you mean, exactly, Councilor?" His voice was flat, expressionless.

Erestor kept himself from frowning, masking his own face for the moment, "What do you wish it to mean?"

Lindir opened his eyes a crack, gazing at him through slits, "You are avoiding the question. But, as to what I wish, I will not say till you tell me what you meant. Because you may very well lie to me if I say I wish for one or the other."

Erestor was mildly surprised at Lindir's wisdom, and decided to go through with it, "If I were to say that I wished to be more then a casual friend, if I were to ask to be your lover in time, what would your answer be?"

Lindir let a soft sigh escape him, and pressed further back against the pillows, his eyes shutting completely, "You know, as all Imladris does, I have not taken a lover since Feadin died."

"Yes," Erestor replied simply, unsure of where this would lead.

"At that time, I thought I would not ever want nor need for love again. He was a good Elf, and I loved him deeply as my best friend," piercing eyes suddenly opened, striking through Erestor's own as if to read his soul, "Tell me, Councilor, why do you approach me after all this time? Is this offer out of want to help, or do you indeed desire me?"

Erestor had to pause for a moment, to consider his words, even though he knew the answer, "It is out of both. I admit I have desired you for a long time, but I do wish to help you as well. I do not wish to see you continue to wear yourself down. As to why I could not approach sooner… I admit I am not a brave Elf when it comes to the matters of the heart, and I was afraid of your reaction," he confessed softly.

"Afraid of my reaction? What did you think I would do, Councilor?" Lindir asked quietly, his eyes shutting again.

"I…I'm not sure. I know you have turned away all other suitors, many of them with far better looks and talents then I. I did not believe myself to have a chance, and I did not want the humiliation of being rejected," Erestor said.

Lindir was silent for a while, then finally he sighed silently, "It is true I have turned the others away, because I desired none of them. But, you do not hold yourself in the right regard. I am not a vain Elf, Councilor, looks and talents mean little to me. It is the soul that I am interested in, and the song that I hear from it. I have heard many sweet songs in my day, but yours has always struck me as beautiful, even though it is so sad."

Erestor looked at him in surprise, and brief wonder. It wasn't an uncommon gift among the Elves, any sensitive Elf could hear another's soul song if needed, mostly healers and musicians were the most intuned to it. What did shock him was Lindir's comment about his own song. He thought it…beautiful? Did that mean….

"I could possibly accept your offer, Councilor… " Lindir said thoughtfully.

That brought even more surprise to Erestor's mind, yet, it lightened his heart, till Lindir spoke again.

"However, I wish to be courted properly. I will not pursue a relationship of mere lust, it is not worth my time. I wish for you to understand me, before you understand my body," Lindir stated softly.

Erestor found he didn't mind that condition at all. The opportunity to understand the minstrel better, to find out more about him, to finally begin to piece the puzzle he presented together, was a delight. He could do so, for he wished to know Lindir far more then he wished to have him in his bed. And he hoped the minstrel would come to understand him, and his true feelings given time.

"Of course. I will court you as you have asked. I wish to learn about you, as much as you allow," he said softly.

That brought a faint smile to Lindir's lips, and warmth to those enchanting green orbs. This was the Lindir he was used to seeing, not that cold, and forbidding one.

"Very well, we will see how this may go. I trust your words... Erestor." the singer's smile brightened and Erestor felt overjoyed, though he kept it controlled.

He hadn't won the game yet, but this small victory was a promising move.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to Haldir's Heart and Soul, Author Unknown, and Beatrisu for your comments. :)

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His fingers danced over the strings, caressing like a lover, as he leaned over the instrument, face set as if in thrall with his own music. Green eyes were half lidded, gaze drawn inward, as the entrancing music sang up from the strings beneath his finger tips. Each little touch, brought a new sound forth, weaving the notes into a song, nearly as breathtaking as the one who crafted it.

Moonlight hair spilled down, giving backdrop to those silver strings, melding with them, even though they never touched, never came close to doing so, Lindir was far too careful with both to ever let one become entangled with the other.

Yet, it gave him a distinctively look, as if of one of those entrancing spirits said to live deep within the woods, apart from man or Elf. Those whose hair could become their instrument, to play in order to seduce and steal away the souls of those who saw them.

Erestor was very sure the younger Elf had long ago stolen his, and not just his heart. Especially during these times, when he alone was watching him practice beside the ever burning fire in the Hall of Fire. Lindir never spoke when he practiced, all his focus, all himself, was intertwined with his music alone, untouchable to anyone else who was near.

The Councilor found he didn't mind though. To hear such, to be witness to the birth of songs from one of the last great minstrels left in Arda during the third age, was a wonder.

And to think, this mysterious, and spellbinding Elf, had entreated to him the chance to look beyond what the notes only hinted at.

Yet, he knew nothing. In the few months since their arrangement, Lindir had revealed little about himself. Trivial things, such as his favorite color, or drink, the occasional dream, and the like, but nothing truly deep, nothing that those songs whispered of. Even so, Erestor had taken all those trivial and not so trivial things to heart, committing them to memory, for Lindir's sake.

Much, had been for Lindir's sake as of late.

Erestor had changed his very rigid schedule over the last while. At the start, they had only been able to meet in the evenings, after Lindir's performances, when Erestor's own work was finished. Yet, that hadn't seemed enough the more they came to know each other. So he had spoken with Elrond, and had adjusted his working to give himself a bit more extra time, like now, to be with Lindir.

Elrond had oddly encouraged it, stating firmly that it was a good thing that Erestor had more to concentrate on then just Imladris. Erestor had in turn stated he was doing it for Lindir, not really himself, to which the other had merely smiled.

In truth, the Councilor felt that his old friend knew more then he, and was not going to indulge it.

It was very likely the case, though Erestor could prove nothing for or against it. Elrond was after all the one who had practically raised Lindir, with his own children, when the young one had arrived at Imladris, orphaned and alone.

It was at times like these, that Erestor wondered why he himself was not closer to Lindir, had not been so before. He had been the one to find him that fateful day. He could still remember how dirty and thin the little one had been, uneven hair matted with dirt and leaves. The only thing that had actually been clear about the Elfling had been his green eyes, so haunted and empty.

No one really knew how he had gotten there, or what exactly had happened to his parents. At best, Elrond might have known, but had never spoken of it, keeping whatever confidences Lindir had given him, to himself.

Erestor could remember a time when the younger hadn't been able to speak, let alone sing. He had always been so shy, so quiet, keeping his distance even when Elrond finally got him to at least smile, and play with the younger twins.

The Head Minstrel at the time, Orodreth, had finally been able to give back the Elfling's voice. He had never said how he had done so. Merely one day, Lindir came into the Hall of Fire where the old Elf had been practicing alone, and that night, he had walked out singing. Before that, the little one had always shown interest in music, in the harp, and in the voices. So it had made sense that it had awakened his own in the end.

After that, he had unraveled from his hidden self, revealing his talent, and his warm, loving spirit. Yet, even then... Erestor had no idea why he didn't know him better. Somehow, he had been too busy to do more then keep an ear open to news of that orphaned Elfling.

Until at some point, he wasn't truly sure when, it had struck him how beautiful Lindir had turned out, and how he was no longer an Elfling, but an Elf. Then he had started watching him, finally truly seeing what he had missed before. Bright smiles and sweet laughter, secrets hidden within tender green eyes, music that whispered of what he had missed all those years.

Lindir had gone from a mere familiarity, to something he desired, someone he dreamed of. And now, someone he was trying to understand, and in time, hopefully, become more then just an acquaintance and somewhat friend.

"Erestor?" his thoughts were swept away at that voice, and he looked up into mildly concerned eyes.

Smiling a little, he shook his head, "Forgive me, Lindir. Your music seemingly brought some things to mind."

A faint return of his smile, and Lindir sat beside him, "I have been told it tends to do that. But then, music is intended to speak to the soul."

"And so it does," Erestor agreed, reaching ever so hesitantly to lightly touch the younger's hand.

Lindir allowed it, even encouraged it, with a gentle look, and with moving his hand till it grasped Erestor's loosely, "And what did it say to you?"

Looking to their entwined hands, it took a long moment before the older could answer, as he gathered his thoughts, and considered what to say, "Mostly of regret, for the time I wasted looking the wrong way," he confessed finally, softly, gazing into those green eyes.

Something softened sweetly in those features, and Lindir's free hand came to touch his cheek. That was one thing Erestor had truly noted, their touches had become more casual, more common. Especially on Lindir's part, though he was sure that was because the younger was more open then he in some ways.

"Are you looking the right way now?" he asked softly, though those deep eyes said he already knew the answer.

Nevertheless, Erestor gave his reply, laying his own hand on top of Lindir's as he leaned into his touch, "Yes."

"Then that is all that matters," Lindir assured, leaning in a little.

Erestor mirrored his actions, having a feeling of what was to come. Inside, something seemed to tighten, as the distance between them became less. Then finally, warm lips touched his, melded against his, tasting of something he couldn't identify, despite his very long years. He had never had such, thus it was Lindir alone, sweet with just a hint of spice.

There was a hunger there, for a few moments, between him, and Lindir, a devouring need to be closer, to have more of that taste. Yet, even though air was not an issue, the kiss was brief, before Lindir pulled away a little. Erestor kept his disappointment and longing to himself, as the minstrel looked away,

"Lindir?" he couldn't help but question, wondering if he had done something wrong, pushed too far...

"Let's go to the garden, Erestor," Lindir didn't give him a chance, that vague but beautiful smile back in place, as the younger stood, and offered his hand.

The older let it go for the moment, sighing inwardly, even though he took Lindir's hand, and allowed the minstrel to lead him out, after picking up his harp for him. Neither spoke of the kiss the rest of that day, though Lindir stayed close to Erestor after that, always keeping a hand near his arm, or pressing close when he played.

Possibly another small victory, the Councilor wasn't quite sure. He merely hoped it was.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to Gord and V and Haldir's Heart and Soul for your comments.

* * *

Erestor had a lover once. Long ago, when the world had felt young, though it hadn't been then, when the Elven kingdoms were still intact, and wars seemed so common. It had been his first love, a very short fling of ten years. His lover had been younger then he, he vaguely remembered that, though could not recall the color of his hair or eyes, even if he felt he had known once.

He hadn't thought of him in so long, though the faint memory had been dear to him in the way all first loves were. It was strange, how distant it felt after so long, how faded that memory was.

The only reason he had even thought of it at all, was because Lindir somehow reminded him of that first love. He wasn't sure if it was a look or a gesture the younger elf had done. Merely something… just reminded him.

It was such an odd thought, at such a time, when Lindir was curled against him on the bench just outside the main doors of Imladris. His body was so warm, so seemingly delicate against his own, and he couldn't help but thank the Valar for the chance to hold him.

It had been several months since their first kiss. The air was growing cold; winter would soon be upon them, though like all Elves, neither felt it.

Linder's head was tucked beneath his chin, eyes closed as the younger listened to the world, and to his heartbeat, while his arms stayed tight around him, listening as well, to his breathing, to the wind.

Things were rarely so peaceful, even in such a place as Imladris. There always seemed to be life, laughter, the sound of working. Yet, in the early morning, as they sat there, it seemed there was only them.

And he was thinking of a love he couldn't remember. He couldn't even think of why it had ended…

"Erestor?" the word was so soft, but instantly caught his attention.

"Yes, Lindir?" even as he spoke, he felt the other shift in his arms, that head tilting to kiss his chin, before moving up, touching his jaw with petal soft lips, further, taking his lips. He allowed it, embraced the feeling, returned it whole heartedly.

The last few months, they had grown closer. Any free time they had, they spent together, or near each other if the other was working. Most of the time, Erestor would have Lindir in his office even as he worked on his official documents, and as always, when he was done and Lindir wasn't, he would be in the Hall of Fire, listening to him practice.

Hesitant emotions had turned into more, had breathed into a life that revolved around them two alone.

Glorfindal was still irritating him about that, about how the world disappeared for the two, or at least for Erestor, whenever they were together. He had fended off his teasing, had abruptly stated that he still served Imladris first, and that Imladris was always first in his thoughts.

That had received nothing more then a knowing smirk and a quipped word of, 'So when are you going to seal?'

He hadn't even thought of it, he wouldn't, not until he received some sign of Lindir wanting such. Even then, he wasn't sure he himself was ready for that. Not in such a time, when even the lives of Elves were uncertain. They were not actively at war, but the Enemy was still there, still waiting.

For now, this was enough. Spending what time they could together, these quiet moments. Even if there was an ache to never let go, to wake every morning to him, rather then have to wait till they broke fast to see each other. To feel him beside him at night, and know he was there.

At least the dreams had stopped haunting him. He assumed it was because he finally had gotten what he wanted, for the most part. They were together, he could touch Lindir whenever they were together.

Of course, it hadn't gotten that far yet, as the dreams had. But he wasn't worried about.

Though, something tugged at him, that remembered moment during that dream the night before they had gotten together, when Lindir had looked to him with those dying eyes and breathed his apologie...

"Erestor?" the voice was a little concerned, breaking through and bringing his gaze down to those brilliant green eyes he knew and loved so well now.

"Forgive me, something occurred to me," he didn't want to truly confess what it was, he didn't want to worry Lindir, or have him consider him somewhat odd for such dreams.

"What?" was the slightest prod, that slender body pulling just enough away to state that Lindir wasn't going to let it rest.

"It was nothing, I was just reflecting on us," that was the truth.

"Yet?" he was starting to wonder if Lindir knew him better then he thought.

It was a bit thrilling to imagine, and yet a bit off putting at the moment. He kept his silence, considering what to say, how to divert the topic. Nothing however, was coming to mind as those eyes continued to bore into him.

"Perhaps... if I told you something , you'll tell me?" was the soft offer.

That took Erestor off his guard a bit. He knew he didn't know everything about Lindir, such his past, and he was always eager to learn everything he could of him. But was the trade worth it? He wasn't sure.

Seemingly taking his silence as either an agreement, or deciding to force the issue, Lindir continued, gaze steadfast, even though his skin flushed, "I've always loved you. Ever since that day I arrived here. Admittedly, its changed... first I loved you as my savior, then as I grew older, into this... But I knew, from the moment I looked up from the muddy earth, to your face, into your dark eyes, so warm and concerned... I knew I loved you."

The confession drained what thoughts he had away, leaving him only able to stare for a long moment, until Lindir looked away at last, courage faltering.

"But what of..." Erestor eventually stammered out, unable to believe it. It was what he had desired, but it seemed so unreal.

"Feadin was a friend, a very dear friend. He sought to fill my longing when I believed you unattainable. You didn't seem interested... So I thought my heart could be changed. In the end, after his death, I realized that was not so, and so rejected any other advances. When you finally did come to me..." his head bowed, "I admit to being afraid. That you were merely concerned for my health, and as Feadin did, merely sought to help my longing, not knowing it was you that I loved... I feared you would turn away again, once things seemed alright, and so kept up this sense of courting."

That seemed to unfreeze Erestor's tongue, and he lightly reached to touch his chin, turning his face to him, "Did you think so little of me?"

The minstrel's gaze met his, "No, I thought everything of you, that you were perfect for so long. Just... so...untouchable because you were so. I didn't deserve you, despite my desire. I thought you were granting me a kindness, not knowing it would break me."

A slightly sad smile, before Erestor's hand moved to cup his cheek, "I am far from perfect, Lindir. I hope you realize that, and that I offer you no kindness in this, merely my own selfish desire to be with you."

That flush brightened again, warming the skin under his touch further, "I know. I know that now, after spending time with you."

"Good. Because I promise you, I have had such feelings for you for some time, it just took me a while to look and realize it," Erestor assured, leaning in to lightly take his lips, kissing him tenderly.

Lindir's gentle but firm hands reached for him, tugging him closer as he wrapped his own arms around him, pressing body to body. Eventually, Erestor found his fingers trailing down, slipping under Lindir's soft tunic, touching warm skin. The younger moaned, pressing closer yet, taking all his air hungrily as he caressed over bare flesh.

"I dreamed of touching you this way," Erestor whispered, as they pulled away a little, pausing as Lindir's lips moved to touch his jaw, slipping down his neck a bit desperately, "That's what I was thinking of, those dreams..."

Lindir paused then, just a little, "You seemed troubled."

"It was just one dream..." Erestor's hands moved to rest at his hips under his shirt, "The night of your collapse. It was like this... and then suddenly you stopped, and asked for forgiveness... Really, it prompted me to confess to you, among other things."

Something in Lindir's face seemed to close, as the minstrel looked away, slipping out of his grasp. Frowning in mild confusion, Erestor reached for him again, only for the other to shy.

"What is it, Lindir?" faint fear came to Erestor, that perhaps he shouldn't have confessed.

"It's nothing, just the thought of work prompted me to remember that I have a performance tonight," a weak smile, before Lindir stood, "Shall I see you tonight?"

It was so sudden, Erestor wasn't sure what to think, "Of course, but Lindir..." he started to stand when the younger stepped away.

"Tonight, Erestor," was the soft, almost plea, before with a sharp turn, the minstrel practically fled.


End file.
